


Sandpaper

by UNHhhh



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Bloodplay, F/M, Hard Workin' Country Singer meets Whiny Lazy Museum Girl, best friends finally doing it, but like in a fun way, it's just sex guys, mister bossman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UNHhhh/pseuds/UNHhhh
Summary: “I couldn’t find your limes; I think you’re finally going crazy,” Comes Brian’s voice along with the sliding glass of Katya’s back door.She whips around, sandpaper in hand, ready to attack, and she sees him grinning, gripping four fat bottlenecks of Corona with one hand laced between his big fingers, and holding a bowl of limes with the other.





	Sandpaper

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago and honestly, I can tell, but I love it so much that I did minimal editing. You have Campholmes to thank that I even published this.

It’s fucking hot outside.

It’s 3:15 p.m. on a June afternoon and it’s fucking hot outside. Katya can barely keep up with the sweat rolling down her temples and dripping on to her t-shirt. Every time she wipes it up with the hem another bead rolls down the opposite temple, she’s chasing sweat and honestly it’s working her up a bit.

Katya’s hot, on the verge of being overheated, and she’s hungry, she’s thirsty, she just wants to jump into her deep blue pool mere feet away from her and never emerge, swallow gulps of chlorinated water and peel her clothes off, peel her skin off, it’s so fucking hot.

She and Brian have been sanding down her picnic table since noon; why he’d chosen then to rollerblade over and pester her about it, she’ll never know, but she’s been asking him when he would help her with it for the past month and she guesses this is just the time Brian has for it. He’s so busy these days, touring with his new album, writing when he’s not touring, sleeping when he’s not writing. She hasn’t properly seen him in weeks. It feels like a year.

When his pink blades skidded to a stop outside Katya’s backyard gate she’d looked up from the latest issue of _Museum_ , grinned big and jumped up from her lounge chair to unlock the gate and take him into her skinny arms.

He always gives the best hugs, he’s so strong and he knows it, he knows how much pressure to put on you. Katya loves it when he cracks her back and he did it then, after kisses on ears and cheeks and happy salutations. He’d formed a fist with one hand and clamped it down with the other, rested it on her spine just above her waist, and jerked her forwards and up.

It hurt and it felt good, and Katya had grunted into his ear embarrassingly loud, but he’d laughed and kissed her on the cheek before doing it again on her upper back, and then again on her lower. She was placed back down on her feet dizzyingly, she saw double for a second, and then his cute smile and dimpled cheeks were back crystal clear and she was gazing up at him sweetly.

When he’d produced thick packets of folded over sandpaper from the back pockets of his jeans she’d frowned; he’d tricked her, but he’d also remembered the conversations they’d been having over the phone late at night, after his shows, when he’d hit her up and she wouldn’t let it go, how she needed him to come help her sand this picnic table down _now._ She can’t use it, it’s too splintery and it hurts her thighs, and she’s too weak to really bear down with the larger grit paper and is too scared to operate the electric sander.

Brian had laughed at Katya every time she brought it up, he’d told her, “Just wait a while,”, “You’ll be fine, you big baby,” and the phrase that kept her up at night sometimes wishing he was there to antagonize her in person, “If I sand it down for you you’re just gonna drool over my cowboy body while I do all the work, you won’t help at all, Princess Katya. Little baby. What are you gonna do when I can’t come take care of you?”

Katya doesn’t like thinking about that, but right now, she wishes he had never come over. He’s inside cracking open Coronas for them and he better fucking remember the limes, she swears to God, he better remember this time or she’s sanding his face off.

It’s so fucking hot. She’s sweating and bent over the picnic table, her biceps are killing her, she’s rubbing this stupid sandpaper back and forth on a part of the table that just won’t go smooth. Brian had told her to “Keep working on it, baby doll,” as he’d left the backyard, barely sweating at all. But he’d smelled like a Man, he smelled like the outside and heat and hard work, and Katya was secretly glad he had left her alone for a little bit. She didn’t know how much more she could take of the heat and his heat and her body sabotaging her.

“I couldn’t find your limes; I think you’re finally going crazy,” Comes Brian’s voice along with the sliding glass of Katya’s back door.

She whips around, sandpaper in hand, ready to attack, and she sees him grinning, gripping four fat bottlenecks of Corona with one hand laced between his big fingers, and holding a bowl of limes with the other.

“You little shit,” She crosses her arms, and Brian laughs meanly. He places the bowl on the table and gently sets the bottles down too, loosens his grip before plucking one from the bunch and picking up a cut of lime.

Brian always knows how to cut them just right. His bartending days during his Starving Artist Period had served him well, and he knows how to angle the tip of the lime and wedge it in, push it in with just enough force that it doesn’t bunch up at the opening and go nowhere. Lime juice always squirts all over his tanned hands and he warns Katya endlessly about the bad burns from the sun if she doesn’t wash her hands when it happens to her, but she’s never seen him wash his own. She only sees the sticky, tart liquid rolling down his huge hands and dripping off his wrists.

The lime pops into the bottle with a fizzle. Katya can see the juice mingling with the beer and it looks wavy, delicious, and Brian sticks his fingers in his mouth and sucks the residual juice off with raised eyebrows and beer out at Katya’s face.

“Thanks,” She mumbles.

Katya waits for him to load a lime into his own bottle. She watches him repeat the whole process, his fingers linger in his mouth a little bit longer and she can tell it’s because his lime was a little fatter and juicier, he’d had to work at it a little more, and then they’re clinking bottles and Katya’s chugging it, letting it flow down her open throat, not even bothering to register the yellow taste of the beer mixing with the bright green of the lime.

Brian’s laughing at her, standing with his feet planted wide a few steps away. His arms are crossed and he’s watching her chug it, she doesn’t care that she’ll probably be drunk in ten minutes because of it and the heat and her dehydration and lack of food in her stomach. She only thanks the gods that she isn’t operating a power tool right now.

“You don’t watch it, you’re gonna throw up,” Brian warns when Katya’s still drinking thirty seconds later. She’s so thirsty; she needs to occupy her mouth before she says something about the vein that’s been popping in his neck all day from his hard work on her table. It’s still there, resting wrapped around a tendon that he’s been working at subconsciously. He does it when he’s excited. She’s known him for over a decade now, thirteen years, and she can tell when he’s excited.

Today he is, very much so, and she doesn’t know why, but she knows it’s going to kill her, and she needs to jump into her pool and gulp down that chlorinated water so it can take her before he does.

She finally pops the bottle off her lips when a third of the liquid remains and Brian whistles low. His eyebrows are still raised as he shakes his head.

“You’re awful in the heat,” He says.

“Well unlike your ancestors, mine were tucked away in the forests high up in Europe. We didn’t have to work with this bullshit American sunlight humid ridiculousness,” Katya’s grumbling, swirling her beer around and watching the lime bob up and down in the liquid.

Brian chuckles and smacks her hard on the right flank before he puts his drink down on the seat of the picnic table and picks the sandpaper back up. Katya can thankfully mask her groan as indignation for him taking a less-than ten minute break instead of it really being from of the jolt of electricity that struck through her core when his big, calloused hand touched her jean shorts.

“You wanna finish this before five, right? We’ve got a dinner date! And we both need a shower,” Brian says, ever the bossypants, ever the one in control between them. Ever working hard and not looking up at Katya when he speaks.

But he’s only in control on the outside. Katya’s had him wrapped around her finger since the day they met freshman year of college, smoking a joint together on the rooftop of their co-ed dorm. He’d looked at her with big eyes, at her flowing blonde hair and prairie dress, and told her she reminded him of the “pretty girls back home in Wisconsin- all four of them,” and Katya had laughed so hard at his joke she’s sure that’s what cemented his undying love for her.

He’d tried to sleep with her immediately, of course, and she’d rejected his advances, and soon it became a game between them, how much Brian could get away with, teasing Katya, before she would either give in or yell at him to fuck off and slam her dormitory door in his face, his peals of laughter haunting her as she laid down in bed and gotten herself off with trembling hands.

She’d never given in. It was the unspoken rule now; take it to the edge, get incredibly close, and then Katya would yell and Brian would laugh and they’d share a joint and go get Mexican food, bloat up on the carbs and feel real unsexy.

Katya wants to give in, and she wants to give in right now as Brian’s bent over the table, working at the spot she couldn’t get earlier, smoothing it over with fast, hard flicks of his wrist. It’s going directly to Katya’s pussy. She can feel herself tingling, getting wet over his grunts and the little bead of sweat dripping off his nose, darkening the wood beneath him.

Brian’s working so hard his shoulders are pulling at the tight fabric of his tank top and Katya’s tongue is probing the opening of her beer bottle absentmindedly. Her stomach’s expanded with Corona, she can’t drink anymore, but she wants to. She needs something in her mouth or she’s going to do something crazy and she can feel it, between her legs, swelling up with anticipation and want and thirteen years of not doing anything but rubbing herself to the thought of him.

Her lovers had never fully satisfied her, and she knew why. She was looking for what he could give her in other people, and no one, male or female, could do it. She’d enjoyed their company and come hard enough, sometimes so hard she’d considered getting down on one knee and proposing to them, but never as hard as she knew she would come with Brian.

Brian, who’s sweating over her picnic table and sanding it down for her, doing all the work because he was right, he always is, and she wants to satisfy him and his indignant attitude, his sarcastic remarks and mean jokes.

Katya wants to prostrate herself in front of him, swipe the beer off the table and slam her hands on the smooth wood. She wants to stick her ass out and look up at him with bedroom eyes, tell him to take her now, please, she can’t handle it anymore. She wants Brian to stand behind her and unzip his jeans with fumbling fingers, skin rough from being assaulted with sandpaper, shove his fingers inside of her and then follow it up with his dick. She’s seen how big it is and she doesn’t think she can take it but she wants to try anyway. She wants him to pump into her hard and fast, make her regret drinking her beer so fast and chastise her for it, call her a bad girl and smack her ass again and tell her she did this to herself, she has to take it now.

Brian looks up at Katya and his mouth is gaped open a little, and for a split second she thinks it’s because he can read her mind- they’ve tested it before and they’re pretty sure they can do it- but then she sees that he’s worn himself out a little with how hard he’s going at that one spot.

He’s looking at her with a face of disdain, but he’s proud of himself for predicting her actions and Katya knows it.

“I told you,” He licks at a bit of sweat on his upper lip and Katya grips her beer tighter with bony fingers. “I told you I’d be doing all the work and you’d just end up watching me.”

“That’s not fair! I’ve helped!” Katya can tell by how loud her voice is that she’s starting to get a little buzzed.

Brian laughs. “You helped with half of it, yeah. You can do the finer grit just fine because it doesn’t require as much strength, but I swear, it takes you so long I could sand circles around you.”

“Well why the fuck do you think I asked you to help?” She bites back, and Brian laughs loud. She sees his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and she wants to bite it and suck on it and it’s been thirteen years and it’s so hot outside.

“So you could check me out,” He smirks, then returns to his work. “If you’re just gonna stand there, can you hand me my beer, please.”

It’s not even three feet from him. Katya grits her teeth.

He’s back to sanding hard, pressing down roughly with the meaty part of his palm, rubbing in the sandpaper and twisting a little at it, working at it so much Katya knows it’s because he’s imagining other things just like she is.

Katya picks up his Corona, he took like three fucking sips and it’s still mostly full. The lime is just sitting there, being wasted.

She walks over to him and holds the beer over his shoulders and turns it upside down.                             

The liquid pours over him fast for a moment before the lime stops up the neck a little, and then it’s trickling, glugging out of the bottle, and Brian hasn’t even acknowledged it besides the cessation of his hand on the table.

He’s not turning around and Katya’s blood is boiling in her veins. She hopes he’s angry with her, she wants to rile him up like he riles her up. She knows it’s part of the game but she’s in her thirties now and she’s at her peak, she’s in prime shape to fuck, she runs every day and she’s sexually competent and she wants to throw Brian down on the grass and ride him and twist and swivel on his dick until he cries like a stupid college kid, whining about a D he got in a class he didn’t study for. She wants to wring his neck and make him see stars when he comes.

Brian stands up slowly and Katya follows him with the beer, he turns around and then it’s spilling out onto his chest. She can see his pecs through the thin fabric now, his nipples hardening at the cool liquid.

She holds it there, against his chest, the rim of the bottle on his birthmark, and he holds her gaze, serious and sharp and heavy, until it’s done.

“What the fuck was that for,” He says darkly.

Katya smirks.

“We’re gonna need showers, anyway, right, Mister Bossman?”

Brian takes a step forward and closes the space between them. It’s electric, it’s an electrical fire and the beer has only made it worse, and Katya’s so swollen between her legs the denim just resting against her is making her ache so bad.

“What’d you call me?” He growls, snatches the bottle from her hand and throws it in the green grass of her yard, where it thumps and rolls away. His eyes haven’t left hers, and she levels with him, inches shorter and much lighter but what she lacks in height and weight she makes up for in attitude and it’s like a laser from her gaze to his.

“What, Mister Bossman?” She jerks her eyebrows up innocently, tilts her head, and his eyes narrow.

“You’re really angling for it,” He tilts his head up a little, looks down his nose at her.

And Katya shrugs.

She’s never shrugged before. This is the moment where she slaps his meaty bicep and tells him to go away or she’s calling the police, or asks him if he talks to his cousins like that. But this time she shrugs and she can watch Brian’s micro expressions change from challenged to surprised to aroused.

“Say it,” He whispers. The sweat is still beaded where he shaved his moustache his morning, the hair’s already prickling back up and leaving a dark cast on his skin and Katya wants to feel it on her tongue, between her legs.

“Say what?”

“ _It_.”

Katya licks her plush lips and Brian’s eyes dart to her mouth before coming back up to her eyes.

“Brian,” She whispers, and his eyes bug a little at his name. “I want you to fuck me, right here, on this stupid fucking picnic table, and make me come hard, as many times as the years we’ve known each other.”

Katya doesn’t think Brian expected that at all because he actually gasps, grips her wrists with hands that are sticky with beer, and he smiles a little. She can see the light behind his eyes and he’s fully erect against her hip, like already, and she knows she just set the tone for the roughest fucking she’ll ever receive.

“Well, if that’s what the princess wants,” He says low. “I guess Mister Bossman has to give it to her.”

Before she knows what’s happening Brian’s grabbed her by the waist and flipped their positions, spun her around, and she’s facing the picnic table, catching herself on it with her hands so she doesn’t faceplant.

He dead-legs her in the backs of both knees, pushing them with his own knee to make her kneel on the seat of the table, and his rough hands are running up and down her back, catching on her shirt and pushing and pulling at it.

Her soft skin is rubbed with this firm hands. He brings them down the small swell of her ass, cups it and squeezes hard, pinching her through her denim and she doesn’t know how he’s doing it but she doesn’t care, it’s making her whine and he’s groaning at it. She wants to see him, watch him stare down with an entranced look, watching his own hands rub the muscles beneath them.

A couple of his fingers slip down past her cheeks and between her thighs and they both gasp. She feels a jolt again, it’s a dull throb this time as he rubs his fingers against the denim and presses in a little.

“Fuck, you’re awful wet, aren’t you,” He breathes. She can hear how ragged his voice is, feel how hard he is against her cheek as he grinds into her slowly. Katya rotates her hips up and back and sticks her ass out to meet his thrusts.

Katya must look ridiculous from afar, kneeling on a picnic table with her ass up in the air, her head slowly falling to rest on her folded forearms, having her ass and her crotch rubbed relentlessly. Brian’s standing there in his Timberlands and dark washed jeans, his tank top with his favorite drag queen on it, his shaved head glistening in the sunlight from his sweat, touching on her through her cutoffs and under her shirt.

He runs the hand that isn’t between her legs up her spine and grips the hair at the base of her neck, tugs on her shoulder-length curls just enough to make her whine and yank her head back a little. She’s staring up at the sun, she doesn’t care that it burns, he’s pulling her head back by her hair and it’s everything she’s ever wanted.

“Gonna make you come so hard,” He whispers. She jumps and Brian hums a low laugh behind closed lips, he’s still rubbing into her and she can tell these shorts are going to need to be washed twice, they’re going to smell like lime and her wetness and she wants to shove them in Brian’s face and ride him hard and sopping wet. “You know I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“I know. I don’t think you’ll be able to last long enough.”

There’s a smile in Katya’s words and Brian groans, pulls his hand out from between her legs and grips her hip tight, shoves his erection onto the seam of her shorts right between her cheeks and rubs up against her.

“I can last longer than you think, girl.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Fuck me.”

Brian moves the hand in her hair to her shoulder and he flips her around again, roughly pulling her up off the table, moving her like a ragdoll to stand in front of him, and she can see his face now, how flushed it is, how dark his eyes are and how swollen his lips are and they haven’t even kissed yet.

“I think you need to do something for me first,” He looks at her with fire in his eyes.

She realizes Brian’s going to make her do his bidding just as much as she’s going to make him do hers, and she can’t wait to be bossed around and shoved in every direction possible. She hopes she emerges from the experience a Changed Woman, a woman of grace and dignity and her mile-wide dirty streak laid out bare for all her neighbors to hear, for the pool boy with the deep tan one house over that likes to watch her laying out to see, she hopes they’re all getting off to her getting off. She wants the cops called and she wants to fuck in front of them and handcuff herself to Brian’s wrist.

Then Brian’s rough lips are on hers and she’s melting into them. Katya’s waited to kiss him for so long it feels almost wrong, but then they lock into position so well and she’s sighing into his mouth, he’s licking her teeth and sucking on her lower lip and digging his fingers into her scalp, curling them around the roots of her hair.

He pulls on her lip with his teeth and doesn’t let up when she whines, stamps her foot on the ground and digs her nails into his arms. He just moans and bites down harder and she knows her lip is bleeding with the stinging pain his incisor is delivering, and when he sucks on it again, runs his tongue over it and emerges with a little of her blood on his own lip she moans loud, rubs her thumb across it and his pink spit is in a string from his mouth to her thumb. She can feel it bleeding still, it’s settling in the lines of her plush lips and the corner of her mouth and she licks at it, sucks it in and Brian sighs heavily before leaning in to kiss her again.

It's still so fucking hot outside. When she wraps her arms around his strong shoulders she can feel his sweat mingling with the sticky Corona residue. She scrapes her nails across his back and he hisses.

The sun is beating down, she’s going to have a sunburn tomorrow and it will be painful but she’ll like the pain. It will remind her of when Brian fucked into her finally, deep and strong, and she knows she’ll get off to it in her morning cold showers, the heat will bloom up and she’ll scream with it, shove her fingers into her mouth even though she doesn’t have to shut herself up in her own home.

“Oh,” Brian sighs against her mouth. “On your knees.”

Before she can react he’s pulling her down by her hair, and she’s buckling under his force and she doesn’t care at all. She lands heavily in the grass on her knees and she’s reaching for his belt buckle in a split second and undoing it, yanking at it and popping his button-fly all the way down, six buttons too long.

When she pulls his jeans down to his thick thighs she can see how hard he is, pressing up against his red boxer briefs. There’s a wet spot a mile wide where he’s dripping for her, for _her_ , she wants it in her mouth right now, she wants to choke on him.

“Oh, fuck,” She moans loud, and it makes Brian moan, it makes his dick twitch and she’s tucking fingers into his briefs and rolling them down his hips, his thighs.

His dick pops out and bounces in its weight. It’s huge.

Brian’s dick is huge and specifically, Katya notes as she splays her fingers over the tip of it and drags them down the length, it’s long, uncut, and girthy as fuck, and Katya can feel herself aching with its absence inside of her.

He’s so hard his foreskin is already sliding back, and she tugs at it a little bit with her hand, pumps him around the base of his head and Brian bucks up and grunts, winds both of his hands into her hair and pulls a little. She teases his skin over his head and back down, watching how it relaxes with her pull and tightens, just barely slips over with her push, and he’s dripping. It’s going to hit her chest soon and she’s going to rub it in.

She catches it with her tongue instead, the long string of precum, and Brian moans outright at the sight. She brings her tongue up to the head of his dick and circles around it, looks up at him with doe eyes and she’s still gripping him tight.

She moves her hand to the base of his dick and she’s got her mouth around him now, sucking a little but mostly getting used to the girth between her lips. Brian’s crying out, she can tell he wants to set the pace in her mouth but he’s holding back, his fingers keep twitching forwards before he can catch them.

Katya takes a deep breath, relaxes her throat, and then slides down on his dick, slipping him inside her mouth easily, her spit and his precum are making it so easy to take him all in. She reaches halfway and stops, breathes around his dick for a moment.

“Hm, can’t do it, can you?” Brian gasps. He’s smirking, she can hear it in his voice, and she sucks hard at it, shutting him up momentarily with a grunt.

“C’mon,” He breathes. “Take it. You want it, Katya? Take it.”

Katya moans as well as she can around his dick before swallowing it all down, resting her sharp nose against his trimmed hair, breathing in slowly and going insane over his scent just as slowly.

“Yes,” Brian sighs. “Just like that.”

Katya can feel the sun burning the back of her neck and the little bit of skin showing between her shorts and shirt, and it feels good

His fingers pull her off him a little, then he shoves her back down and she whimpers.

“I know,” He says patronizingly, and she whimpers again, shoves her free hand between her legs and rubs up against it.

Brian fucks her face, slow at first, sliding himself almost all the way out of her mouth before giving her two small thrusts and then shoving himself all the way back in, and soon he isn’t gentle, and she’s choking on him. Her eyes are watering and she’s about to cry, she’s holding him at the base with her hand and not breathing, seeing stars and tightening up around his dick. Katya’s drooling, fully out of control, in his hands and he’s thrusting into her mouth.

“So…pretty…around my cock,” He grits out.

She looks up at him and his pupils are huge, his mouth is wide open and he’s gasping, watching the way her full lips drag against his dick when he pulls back from her.

“I’m- fuck-“ Brian gasps and slips out of her fast, and she’s gasping for air, gagging and coughing at the absence in her throat.

Brian’s got his hands on her shoulders and he’s bent over a little, panting and his eyes are clamped shut. She wipes the drool off her mouth and chin and rubs it into her thigh.

“Fuck,” He mumbles.

Katya doesn’t know what’s hotter: Brian face fucking her like she’s always dreamed, or him trying so hard to hold back his orgasm because he got carried away with face fucking her like she’s always dreamed.

Soon he’s standing up, a little more composed. He pulls her up by her hands and brings her around to the long end of the picnic table.

Brian pulls his top off over his head and her eyes dart to his abs flexing, showing up just under his little bit of fat he still has after his fitness journey, it makes her mouth water more and she wants to pull at it, suck on it and rub herself on it. When he leans over her to lay out his shirt on the table she pulls her own up and off, and her sports bra follows suit and he’s laying those down too, silently. He backs her up onto the picnic table and she straddles him and rubs her chest against his. He moans with the feeling of her hardened nipples grazing his tanned skin.

And the air is so hot and humid against her skin, the sun soaks into it and it feels so good, the sunlight on her breasts as Brian’s kneading them. He pinches her nipples and she yelps, kisses him hard, rubs her tongue against his and she can feel him fiddling with the zipper of her shorts, pulling it down and unbuttoning it with one hand.

He slips his hand between herself and her shorts and moans loud with the discovery that Katya’s not wearing any underwear, and his fingers are pushing against the fabric and pinching at her skin as he finds her wetness, slides a couple of fingers around it and pulls it up to rub over her clit with practiced movements.

“Oh,” She whines into his mouth. “Take them off.”

“No.”

“Please, Brian,” She whispers, pants against his chin, kisses down his neck to his chest, where she can taste the beer and sweat and lime mingling.

“Hm, what a baby,” He says derisively, and she whines against his skin, grips at his hips and his ass. He’s still got his jeans around his thighs, and she shoves them down to his ankles, wraps her legs around his and pins his arm between them. “I would, but I don’t know how I can with you trapping my arm like that.”

Katya is pushing herself off him faster than she can register and Brian laughs mockingly. He slips his hand out of her shorts and then yanks at them with both hands.

“Up,” He barks.

It goes to her core, she’s pushing herself up by her hands on the table and her feet balanced on his strong calves, just enough for him to slide them off, and then he pulls them down, they dangle off her ankles for a second before falling onto the grass.

Brian takes a step back and stares at Katya, leaning back on her hands and panting, heaving with arousal. She’s so wet Brian can see it clearly, and he lunges back in and slips two of his thick fingers inside of her. Katya yelps, it burns and it feels so good, just two of his fingers are stretching her out so much, she wants three of them, she wants all of them and his dick at the same time, she wants him to stretch her out so far she might rip apart with the force of it.

“You’re so tight,” Brian grunts. He slips his fingers out almost all the way and pushes them back in, twists them around and he’s already pulling up on her, high inside of her, hitting a spot she swears no one else but herself has ever been able to hi. She moans high and loud and he moans back. “Oh, yeah? Right there, huh?”

He chuckles as Katya nods quickly. She throws her head back, bares her neck and her chest to the elements and Brian’s mouth. He runs his tongue flat up her neck and sucks underneath her jawline as he works her with two fingers, digging deep inside of her and pulling up faster and pumping her. He keeps mixing up his pace and pattern and Katya is soaked, completely undone by just two fingers.

“Right there,” She pants. “Fuck- yes- unh-“

“Yeah,” He pants. “Rub yourself.”

Katya sits up a little and finds her clit, it’s so swollen and she jumps when she rubs circles over it. She’s so wet it’s everywhere and her fingers are slipping and sliding and she can’t get good friction and he’s _laughing_ at her, he’s looking down and watching her with mocking eyes. He doesn’t feel sorry for her, his dick is still so hard and dripping onto her thigh and her hip and belly, bumping up against her sticky skin.

“Oh, having trouble?” He laughs.

Katya looks up and shoots him a hard glare and he moans, yanks her hand out of the way and replaces her fingers with his.

“I guess I have to do everything for you, huh,” He growls. Katya moans and sits back on her hands, watches him as he pumps deep into her with one hand and rubs her clit fast with the other. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she whines loud, and it embarrasses her.

“Yes, what.”

“Yes, you- you have to do everything for me.”

Brian groans at that and rubs her faster, presses down harder on her clit and curls his fingers higher inside of her.

He’s rutting against her as he works her out, kissing her sloppily between pants and moans, and Katya’s stomach swoops low and she can feel her orgasm building bigger than she can recall it ever building before.

“I’m gonna come,” Katya whimpers suddenly, digging her nails into the table with the realization. “Fuck, I’m going to come!”

“Oh, do it,” Brian groans. “Do it, come on my hand.”

He rubs her clit faster. Somehow he’s doing it just how she likes it, it’s insanity, she’s going insane.

Katya gasps and Brian pulls his fingers up inside of her fast and repeatedly, rubs into her at the same speed and then Katya’s screaming his name and bearing down on his fingers to dirty words of encouragement.

Brian doesn’t let up or slow down, he’s staring down at her with a look that’s almost maniacal, sweating and biting his lip. The tendons in his wrists are working overtime and she can feel him thinking about how much they’re burning, but fuck if she isn’t sexy when she comes.

He eases up on her when she jumps with his touches and he pulls his hands up, grabs himself with one and her waist with the other.

“You look so good when you come,” He practically whimpers.

Katya can’t believe she’s coming down from one of the biggest orgasms of her life and it’s all Brian’s doing, and he’s leaning over her on her freshly sanded picnic table, she’s screaming and moaning out loud in her backyard. It’s all so surreal, and the alcohol and the heat aren’t helping her find her grasp on reality.

She finds it again when Brian slides his dick up against her pussy. She’s so wet still, she’s dripping and so is he, and he slips in with no friction at all.

Then it gets tight, Katya hisses as Brian pulls out and then pushes back in and makes little headway.

“So tight,” He grunts.

“Brian,” Katya whines.

“Lay back.”

Katya does and Brian slips out, pushes her to scoot back until only her legs from the knees down are hanging off the side of the table, and he climbs on after kicking his boots and clothes off.

Brian looks down at Katya, splayed out underneath him, and he smiles, big and genuine, and for a moment both of them have snapped out of whatever sexy as fuck trance they were in, and they’re laughing with each other.

He traces the side of her face with a hand.

“Wow,” He sighs happily. “Took you long enough to say yes.”

Katya giggles and cuffs his shoulder lightly.

“Shut up.”

“Hm, seems you like my commentary, though,” Brian’s raking his eyes up and down Katya’s body, he’s sitting up on his knees and she can’t stop staring at the short hairs on his thighs, the well-defined muscles and the way his hips are so strong and fit, and his stomach, still a little soft, God she loves it, she loves all of it.

Brian leans back down and kisses her hard and lifts one of her legs up over his shoulder.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re gonna go blind,” Brian says.

Katya moans and it slips into a whine as Brian pushes inside of her.

His dick still catches, but he pushes past it, pumps in and out of her in short bursts. Katya relaxes around him and she can feel their wetness pushing him along, he’s bucking up into her, pushing all the way in and bottoming out and it _hurts._

Suddenly Katya’s slipping back into the murky reality and he’s pushing up against that spot again, the one just in front of her cervix and she’s panting, digging her fingernails into his ass that’s so round and fat.

She slaps it and he bucks into her, whines into her mouth, and she smacks it again, smooths over his skin before smacking it a third time, and his whines match hers in pitch and she laughs through their kiss.

His head dips down and he’s whining into her neck as she spanks him repeatedly, he’s pumping into her roughly, barely pulling out at all, just hitting that spot over and over again.

“Come,” He begs. “Come, please, you’re gonna make me-“

“If I do?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

Katya raises her other leg up, slowly, to his head, and he groans as his eyes catch it and watch her lower it onto his shoulder. She’s open completely for him now, and he doubles down, pulls out further and pushes in harder.

He slamming into her, big and heavy and throbbing, stretching her out completely, making her hurt and ache and it’s like nothing else she’s ever felt.

“You’re so big,” She whispers. His eyes roll back into his head at that and he groans and nods. “So thick, you’re stretching me out so much.”

“Yeah,” He pants.

“God I love it, it hurts, Brian, fuck, oh-“

“Yeah- good.”

He’s thrusting faster, pushing into her harder and she’s sure they’re going to slide off the edge of this picnic table any second, he’s fucking her so hard.

“Katya,” He drags her name out on a long whine, he’s fucking into her so fast she can’t believe it, how strong he is, how he hasn’t given out yet.

“Brian, I’m gonna-“

Katya doesn’t finish her sentence before she’s coming again, his dick rubbing against her just right and so fast and hard and good. Her mouth is open but she isn’t making any sounds, she isn’t breathing, and Brian looks up at her and groans as he watches her eyes roll back into her head. She grins wide as she catches her breath and then she’s chanting out his name raggedly, over and over, and Brian’s hips stutter and he’s coming thick ropes inside of her. It’s leaking out of her already, and he’s still coming and it’s dripping onto the table and she couldn’t care less.

He shudders and sighs and leans against her chest, pressing little kisses into her neck and on her chin. After a few moments he slides out of her slowly with a groan and rests on top of her. Katya’s legs are still up in the air over his shoulders and they both laugh with the realization. She unwinds herself from him as she sits up, pushes himself off the table and pulls her up slowly.

Brian holds her shoulders and kisses her softly, rubs his thumbs against her skin.

When he pulls back they’re both grinning. She knows how fucked out she looks, her hair is probably everywhere and her lips are so swollen they must look injected, and Brian looks exhausted, sweaty, but he’s smiling. His thumbs feel like sandpaper against her skin and she shivers in delight before he pulls her by the hand inside to take a nice cold shower.


End file.
